


après moi le déluge

by schweet_heart



Series: Avengers Fic [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Community: avengerkink, Gen, Grief, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, avengerkink prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony dies. The Avengers pick up the pieces. Written for <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6565.html?thread=10637477#t10637477">this</a> avengerkink prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	après moi le déluge

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an odd admixture of Movie!Verse and Comics!Canon. Title inspired by the song _Après Moi_ by Regina Spektor.

  


  


It's two in the morning when the doctor comes out; four hours of surgery, two cardiac arrests, and they only need one look at his face to know what he's going to say.

 

“I'm sorry,” he begins, but that's as far as he gets before Steve has punched a fist through the nearest wall and Bruce turns on his heel, heading for the door as his skin turns green and ripples outward, his grief made visible. The rest of the team is quiet, absorbing.

 

“You did all you could,” Natasha says. It's not comforting, it's just a statement of fact. “We'll take it from here.”

 

*

 

'We' turns out to mean Natasha, of course, because Bruce is still incommunicado and Steve is with Thor, trying to keep the Other Guy from flattening Manhattan. Natasha, with Clint at her side, her hands clasped neatly behind her back as she outlines the events of the past twenty-four hours to the man across the desk. Fury breathes out slowly when she's finished, not quite a sigh.

 

“Thank you, Agent Romanova,” he tells her. “I'll send in a team to retrieve the body.”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

Natasha stares straight ahead under his irritated gaze. It may or may not be the first time she's ever said those words to him – in that way, in that tone. For any reason.

 

“The reactor in Stark's chest is unique,” she says without inflection. “He wouldn't have wanted SHIELD to have access to it. You know that.”

 

“That technology could revolutionise the world of clean energy,” Fury reminds her. “To say nothing of our weapons tech. We have a right, hell, a _duty_ to work out what makes it tick.”

 

“I wouldn't advise you to do that, sir. That technology is not SHIELD property.”

 

There's no change in her tone, but there's no doubting Natasha means what she says, and behind her Clint shifts his weight, minute enough to have been unnoticeable in anyone else; in Hawkeye, an implicit threat. The director regards them both in silence.

 

“Very well,” he says at last. “What do you suggest?”

 

“Let me call Ms. Potts. She'll be able to make the necessary arrangements, as well as work out how to break it to the press.”

 

“Very well,” Fury says again. He's not used to repeating himself, but today has been a day of firsts in many respects. “Tell Rogers to report to me once he has Banner contained.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“And Agent?”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“I'm letting you have this one because, in spite of everything, I'm sorry about Stark. But I can't have my best team going off the rails just because they're down one Tin Can Billionaire, do you hear me?”

 

Natasha doesn't smile at him, but she nods, crisp and efficient, and exits the room with her back ramrod-straight and Clint half a step behind her.

 

They haven't exchanged a word since the hospital. They don't need to.

 

*

 

Pepper is pale and red-eyed when she arrives at the mansion, and her hands move ceaselessly, clutching and releasing the folder in her arms as if it's the only thing keeping her sane. The rest of the Avengers are gathered in the living room; Bruce sedated and all but dozing, propped against Thor's shoulder, while Steve watches them both from across the room, mouth thin, his expression unreadable. He's the only one who looks at her when she comes in – Clint and Natasha are standing at the window, their shoulders braced against each other, and they don't bother to turn around.

 

“He left instructions,” Pepper says, her voice skating the ragged edge of furious. “That bastard, he left _instructions_ , he knew this was going to happen, he – if he weren't dead I'd kill him myself, how _could_ he – ”

 

She stops, visibly controlling herself, then goes on.

 

“He figured it out a few months ago, after what happened the last time the reactor was removed. He was working on a fix, he said, but it was still a while from completion when he wrote the note. And, uh, he's left us all a message.”

 

“What kind of message?”

 

“He said it's a surprise,” says Pepper. She's crying now, but her voice doesn't shake. She's turning the file over and over in her hands. “Shall I play it?”

 

Steve nods, and Pepper's hands go still.

 

“JARVIS, initiate program So Long and Thanks for all the Fish.”

 

“Program initializing.”

 

The sheer ridiculousness of the name brings the shadow of a smile to Steve's eyes even now, but it fades at once as the room dims and a holographic version of Tony Stark flickers into life before them, dressed in jeans and his Black Sabbath t-shirt, his hair rumpled and streaked with grease. He's wiping his hands on a rag and for a moment doesn't seem to realise he's being recorded.

 

_Oh. Oh, hey, is this thing on? Dummy, you were supposed to wait for my signal before pushing that– oh, never mind, whatever. This'll do._ He clears his throat and waves, obviously anticipating his unseen audience.  _Surprise, everyone, I'm a hologram._

 

Pepper makes a choked sound, and puts her hand over her mouth. Tony keeps talking.

 

_I guess, since you're watching this, the worst has happened – sudden death, reactor failure, yadda yadda yadda – and you're all standing around weeping over my lifeless body. Um. Sorry about that. It was always just a matter of time, and before you get mad at me for not telling you, there was nothing you could do, okay? So it was pointless to mention it. If it helps any, I'm sure it was quick and, you know, painless. At least, I hope it was._

 

He moves, pacing across the room in a few steps and walking right through the couch, something which is as chilling as it is surreal. Mostly-transparent and haloed in a soft blue glow, he could almost have been a ghost, if it weren't for the fact that the image was clearly pre-recorded. The last time they'd seen Tony, he'd been shirtless and bloody, struggling to breathe as the shrapnel tore into his heart.

 

_This is probably the moment where I'm supposed to talk about my feelings and all that crap,_ hologram-Tony goes on.  _But I think the shock would most likely kill you, and then there would be nobody left to take care of the bad guys, so..._ He shrugs, open-palmed, like it's no big deal.  _Here's the highlights. Number one, tell Fury to keep his grubby little paws off my stuff. No touchie. I mean it. Number two, I am so haunting your asses, so don't you dare cry at my funeral, all right?I_ will  _be laughing at you. Number three, I want a piano case. And punk rock. And dancing girls. Shut up, Pepper, it's my last will and testament, you're bound by law to make this shit happen._

 

He sobers at last, and turns.

 

_The company's in Pepper's name, but the money is meant for you guys. All of it. I've also left some plans in the safe – not the one in the office, the one under the floor of my workshop, with the, uh, extra security. Pep will give you the password, but there should be enough upgrades in there to keep you happy for a few years, tech-wise. So don't worry. You won't even notice I'm gone._

 

He hesitates a little, as if uncertain how to proceed, then smiles ruefully and shrugs again, spreading his right hand out in what three of six people in the room recognise as the Vulcan salute. 

 

_I've always wanted to do this,_ he says.  _Live long and prosper, young padawans. Keep kicking ass._

 

A click, a flicker and he's gone, and all the lights go out.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of mashed this prompt together with another one about the shrapnel getting closer and closer to Tony's heart each time the reactor fails/is removed, but I can no longer find it, so if anyone knows it please link me!


End file.
